Zsuzsa Sipos

Remembering Gerald

Dr Gerald Wooster, was a Psychoanalyst, a Psychiatrist, and had a commitment to working with groups.

Over many years he was actively involved in the Group Analytic Society, and was an associate in the Group Analytic Practice. He conducted many groups, amongst them he set up with his wife Bruin, the first “black and white” group in their community in Peckham. He was an active member of EATGA (European Transcultural Group Analytic Association) and was a regular attendee of Group Analytic Symposiums. He wrote, presented and published many scholarly papers.

Above all Gerald was my dear friend. His deep interest was not only in the unconscious, but the arts, classical music, mythology, and his greatest passion Shakespeare. He spent most of his time in the Globe, reading and watching all his plays over and over again. He analysed them and researched Shakespeare’s life, connected events from his life with scenes and references in his plays. There were no plays he has not seen when they were staged in London.

My most memorable experiences with him were a Japanese production of The Tempest we saw in the National Theatre, and a truly enjoyable production from Pakistan in the Globe. Both experiences are unforgettable. His enthusiasm swept away all my anxieties about understanding 16th century English.

On Sunday afternoons we used to sit in the ICA watching films in the Psychoanalytic film series. Gerald always had something unique to contribute to the discussions afterwards. He saw connections which others could not see, sometimes could not even follow the quick links he made in his mind. Each year we attended the Psychoanalytic Film Festival. His knowledge and interest was in films as well.

We shared many interests, the love of classical music, films, fine art, Matte Blanco, world politics, a passion for Europe, the love of animals and many more. He had a small dog Garbo, and a large fluffy cat called Greta.

Whichever conference we both attended, he was always up for an adventure. He knew so much about history, it was a hard call to follow. He passionately soaked up the culture, whichever country he was in. And he very much liked to travel, sometimes missed flights and was lost in a city but eventually always found his way. From my memory it stands out the IAGP conference in 2003 in Istanbul. We were nearly killed by a tram while running across the city in our short free time in the busy conference schedule to visit the Topkapi. In the evening we rushed to a performance by Whirling Dervishes. This was organised by my American friend who happened to be in town. Gerald never met him before but welcomed the encounter with great interest and enthusiasm.

His never-ending curiosity did not stop at plays, films and classical music, he deeply loved people. He loved to get to know people. He was always ready for an encounter, to get to know a new person. He was not just a collector of beautiful old objects but also collected interesting friends. He held onto a number of friends over many years, cared about them and created a good community around him. He was always ready to exchange ideas, discuss politics and collaborate on papers with them.

Above all he was curious about all and lived with passion. His zest for life and his generous heart melted barriers which was truly inspirational. He stood by me in difficult times and was a “Whirling Dervish” in good times.

Gerald’s favourite place besides the Globe was the Festival Hall where he bathed in music. I took this photo of him there, while he was enjoying his unmissable favourite ice cream in the company of his wife and close friends.

He had a committed faith. On Sundays he frequented Southwark Cathedral where Shakespeare’s brother was buried. He never revealed this to me. I only discovered the secret, why he travelled far from home to this particular place of worship, when he passed away and I visited the Cathedral to sit and think of him.

Gerald was the loveliest old-fashioned gentleman, the kindest human being, and a true socialist at heart, who had left a large hole in my life. His last words to me were “make new friends Zsuzsa” when he clearly knew he was heading for his final journey alone.